A desperation murmur of a heart beat

My mum just sent me a text. It reads - "who is that vampire guy in the Joker make-up?" Suffice it to say I had no idea what she was talking about, so I rang her. Now apparantly I was watching something last week on tv, and she commented that he looked like the Joker, but I knew what was going on, so I explained it to her. That was last week, today I have NO idea what's going on. I can't remember watching anything with vampires, let alone vampires with Joker make-up. In fact, I can't remember watching anything with anyone in Joker make-up at all. All I remember watching is Torchwood. Anyway, she wants to know who this mystery guy is cause she says that is what Danny looks like today - you might remember him from other Halloween costumes such as Jack Sparrow (sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow). I knew he was going to do the Joker thing, I just knew it. I should have bet on it, damn it. Anyway, this incident just further illustrates what a unique challenge the parenting of me can be - being on the phone while I run through all the possible shows we could have possibly watched last week and all the vampires I can possibly think of (which for some reason today was limited to Lestat). My poor mother has lived through so many of my obsessions. We still don't know who this vampire Joker is...I honestly have no idea what she's talking about...I'm guessing the character probably isn't a vampire at all, just really pale which I contribute to the clown make up...I mean why would a vampire be dressed like that? It's driving me nuts tho, not knowing.

I should be cleaning up right now, Lizzie's coming over at 5, but I really don't want to.

Ryan Adams was on Letterman last night, he was looking the way he sometimes does that makes me think I've got a bit of a thing for him. You know, despite his being one of those moody, brooding artists types. Disturbingly, I watch a lot of Letterman. Not because I particularly want to, it's just on when I'm up late. I usually only realise when the guest musicians start playing how late it is. It's a cue for my brain to go "Oh Letterman's on, better go to bed soon." I don't even know how old the episodes are they show here. Sometimes I think they can't be that old, but other times there seems to be a bit of a break in information. Well whatever, I ramble pointlessly.

You know what, I'm really very protective of my friends. I hate it when something happens that I can't fix or can't even plot revenge against. I hate feeling so useless.

Days like today just fascinate me. Wasn't hot when I left for work and it was raining, it's taken all day to warm up and even now, it's not really hot, it's just humid. The sky isn't really blue, it's more yellow. Everything has that slightly off tinge to it. I always feel like it's quintessentially aussie.

Now let's see, the obsession of the week. I was considering making it the Trope Wiki site since it's endlessly amusing and provided much aid in the procrastination process this week, but the dubious honour is going to have to go to Green Day's American Idiot. How many years has it been now, four? And still I respond to this album in the same way. I've been listening to it now for four days straight and it's in my car cd player, selected on my iPod, and currently blaring from my stereo. I know it back to front, and yet, I never get sick of it. I've expressed my adoration for this band many, many times, and it never lessens. If anything, it gets stronger. Every time I listen to this album, to any of their albums really, I realise it's why I wake up every morning. It sinks in, it courses through the very strands of my existence, it's like taking that first breath after being under water for a long time. Every time. Everything I feel, everything I love, everything I want, is reflected. And yes, sometimes it breaks my heart, but at least I feel it. I'm weird, I'm a loner, and I feel slightly unhinged most of the time, but it's ok cause I have this. So even though every single feeling captured on this album is one I can easily find, and knowing that stings, it's beautiful, because it's real.



I just caught sight of the pile of clothes in the corner of my room...gah. Why can't I hang stuff up then every weekend won't be this tiring battle to actually get stuff back into the closet. Grumble. Damn the infernal laziness!

Music: Homecoming - Green Day
Mood: Blah